The Moulin Rouge
by FireandSmoke
Summary: Andrew/Jesse Jesse is a Bohemian Revolutionary and has travelled to Paris. Here he mets the Moulin Rouge, and Andrew the 'Sparking Diamond'. Who he quickly falls in love with, unfortunately Justin, the Duke also loves Andrew. Can Jesse win Andrew's love?
1. Nature Boy

Moulin Rouge

_Paris 1900_

_There was a boy. A very strange enchanted boy. They say he wandered very far. Very far. Over land and sea. A little shy, and sad of eye. But very wise… was he. And then one day. A magic day… he passed my way. And while we spoke of many things, fools and kings. This he said to me:_

_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved… in return._

The Moulin Rouge. A night club, a dance hall and a bordello ruled over by David Fincher. A kingdom of night time pleasures where the rich played with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all of these was, the man I loved. _Andrew. _A courtesan, he sold his love to men. They called him 'The Sparkling Diamond." And he was the star of the Moulin Rouge.

I paused in my writing and reflected in my memories. Of the bright lights of the Moulin Rouge; the burlesque dancing of the desirable women, the bitter and heart wrenching emotions which now invaded the once happy memories I have of that place.

The man I loved… is … dead.

A fresh wave of emotion hit me once more. It felt as if my heart was breaking over him once more. The joy I felt in his presence ripped away and all that remained of the stinging agony of a lost love.

I wiped away a tear and returned to my typewriter. I way for me to move on is to document the experience. This way the joy, love and pain I felt over him would not be wasted. So if my mind forgets, each rich detail would remain for me to relive again and again.

I first came to Paris one year ago. It was 1899, the summer of love. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, David Fincher or Andrew. The world had been swept up in a Bohemian revolution, and I had travelled from New York to be apart of it. On the hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not, as my father said – a village of sin – but the centre of the Bohemian world. Musicians, painters, writers. They were known as the Children of the Revolution. Yes I had come to live a penniless existence. I had come to write about truth, beauty, freedom and that which I believed in above all things: love.

I remembered my father's annoyance every time I brought the subject of love up. His dark, almost lost of all compassion, eyes locked with mine, as his mouth, surrounded by a bristly beard, spoke: "always this ridiculous obsession with love!"

There was only one problem. I'd never been in love. Luckily just then, an unconscious Argentinean fell through my roof. He was quickly joined by a dwarf dressed as a nun.

This dwarf slammed the door open. His dark chocolate eyes quickly locked with mine. He had a brown goatee and seemed not a bit phased by the unconscious Argentinean currently hanging from my ceiling in the middle of the room. He simply smiled and introduced himself. His name was Henri Marie Raymond Toulouse – Lautrec – Montfa.

He waddled over to where the unconscious Argentinean has hanging and said apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry. We were upstairs rehearsing a play." My eyebrows at this point must have been up to my hairline. I was in a complete state of shock and was beginning to wonder what I had let myself into moving here.

The play was something very modern called: _Spectacular Spectacular. _

Toulouse (for short) excitement grew as he spoke of this play, his eyes lit up with each detail. This play was clearly his passion. He said "it's set in Switzerland."

Unfortunately the unconscious Argentinean suffered from a sickness called narcolepsy. Toulouse explained to me that he would be perfectly fine one minute and unconscious the next. At this a something broke upstairs. Looking in that direction I saw three heads. The one on the left wore a decorated top hat, round glasses, unusually clothes (I assumed was a costume) and many rings. The one in the middle had short blue/purple hair, makeup and a white shirt accompanied by a red waist coat. The third one wore what I believed to be a bole hat, glasses which had I think had lenses of the side of them, a thick multicoloured scarf and white shirt.

"How is he?" The one in the middle asked.

All three of them turned their attention to me, back to Toulouse, then back to me.

The one with blue/purple hair said snappily "Oh wonderful now the narcoleptic Argentinean is unconscious so therefore the play won't be ready to present to the financier tomorrow."

Each of them rattled on by things they still had to do for this financier. Toulouse suggested that someone else could read the part.

The one still in the middle of the three head scoffed at this and asked "where in heavens name would we find someone to read the role of a young, sensitive, Swiss poet goat herder?"

Before I knew it I was upstairs standing in for the unconscious Argentinean.

The room had a large mountain painted in the back, with a goat and other objects a goat herder may have. There was a lot arguing over lyrics. One of the suggestions was: the hills animate with the euphonious symphonies of descant, along with many other which just didn't fit. Along with these suggestions light bulbs were flashing, a type of piano was being hit and a lot of screeching. Until I couldn't bear it any longer and loudly sang out _'the hills are alive with the sound of music."_

Every noise in the room stopped and all the attention was on me. Then the unconscious Argentinean awoke and repeated what I said smiling. He agreed on what I sang and it was only moments before the others did too.

"It fits perfectly!" One praised.

Then the next line out of nowhere came as I sang _'with songs they have sung for a thousand years.'_

All of them gasped in delight and awe at my creativity.

"Incandiferous!" Toulouse squealed. "You two should write the show together."

"I beg your pardon?" Audrey, the girl with that now looked like black hair, asked.

Toulouse's suggestion that Audrey and I write the show together was not what Audrey wanted to hear.

"Goodbye!" She screamed before slamming the door in a very dramatic fashion.

Toulouse held up a glass cup full of this strange green liquid and said in congratulations "here's to your first job in Paris."

The man with the strange glasses said "Toulouse Fincher would never agree. No offence but have you ever written anything like this before?"

"No," I said bluntly.

The Argentinean pushed this aside and said "the boy has talent! I like him!" At this point he placed his palm on my crotch and I whimpered, frightened of this touch. AT hearing this whimper he removed his hand and quickly covered up his actions by saying "nothing funny, I just like his talent."

They formed into a crowd and walked away from me, Toulouse was saying "the hills are alive with the sounds of music. See with Jesse we can write the Bohemian revolutionary show we have always dreamt of."

"How are we going to convince Fincher?" The man with the unusual glasses asked.

But Toulouse had a plan.

"_Andrew_."

They would dress me in the Argentinean's best suit and pass me off as a famous American writer. Once Andrew had heard my modern poetry he would astounded and insist to Fincher that I would write _Spectacular Spectacular_. The only problem was I kept hearing my father's voice in my head: you'll end up wasting your life at the Moulin Rouge with a cancan dancer.

With their laughter and my father's voice a panicked and squealed "I can't write for the Moulin Rouge!"

"Why not?" They all asked.

"I don't know if I am a true Bohemian revolutionary."

"Do you believe in beauty?" Toulouse asked.

"Yes." I answered truthfully.

"Freedom?" The Argentinean asked.

"Yes of course."

"Truth?"

"Yes."

"Love?"

My eyes lit up despite my fear. For my love and passion for belief in love. My brain funnelled out these thoughts I had about this most wonderful of all emotions a person could feel. My mouth said "above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen, love is a many – splendours thing. Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love!"

Toulouse giggled in delight and practically sang "see you can't fool us! You're the voice of the Children of the Revolution! To the new writer of the world's first Bohemian revolutionary show!"

It was the perfect plan! I was to audition of Andrew and take my first glass of absinthe. Within only a few moments of downing the shot my vision became compromised and I started to hallucinate. The fairy on the bottle became alive and started to dance in the moonlight sky. We laughed, at what I do not know; when under the influence of this liquid your mind can conquer up an infinitive amount of things. At some point we stumbled out on the balcony to dance and sing about our beliefs. The whole sky seemed to a display of green fireworks, each part dancing for our blown eyes to admire. The fairy was in centre stage, it seemed many more fairies joined her in the dance.

We were off to the Moulin Rouge, and I was to perform my poetry for Andrew.

At this everything began to spin. The once friendly fairy's eyes turned red as she screamed. Light flashed and we found ourselves at the Moulin Rouge. David Fincher was dressed as a ring master of a circus. The sight that greeted us one of showing flesh thought provoking costumes and men in suits pressed up against them. Clowns, exotic boys, jugglers and the loud unforgiving beating music.

This was David Fincher and his infamous boys. They call them his "Diamond Dogs."

There was a boy for very type of gentleman. A group of boys was lined up and sexually sang _voules-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?_ As they sang and danced towards us the people erupted into applause and wolf whistles; each one of them desperately trying to get the attention of the desirables. At one point Fincher led of one dances. With each movement and sound any of his 'Diamond Dogs' did or uttered more excitement rippled throughout the room. For me this sight made me smile, for I knew this was the reason I moved here.

Soon a series of dances merged into one, the 'Diamond Dogs' doing one, Fincher another and the crowd one of their own, in which they begged for attention and entertainment. For this one, myself and my recently made friends joined. You did not need to know the words or dance; just being in that placed filled you with the need to do so. For here everyone's mind worked the same, their needs, and their desire just the same as the man next to them. This level of thinking, singing, dancing just came to much for my head to wrap around. I could not see why my father would be against anything this much fun!

Abruptly the music stopped, everyone cleared the stage and I was pulled to a seat. For it was time for him.


	2. Sparkling Diamond

Toulouse whispered to me "mission accomplished. We've successful evaded Fincher."

Silver confetti fell from the ceiling immediately during the room's attention; I held my breath for I would finally see why people talked about this place in such high passion. Tonight I would see the Sparkling Diamond.

He came down on a silver swing; there was no sound in the hall. Everyone's heart was racing. All eager to get a first look on this beautiful creature. And then he sang.

"_The French are glad to die for love."_

With each word that was sang my heart beat faster, my mouth hung open that this exquisite sight. But someone else was to meet Andrew that night. Fincher's investor. The duke.

Drumming began to pick up as he span around on his swing. Cheers erupted as the music picked up to a danceable beat. With each spin he got closer and closer to the ground, the men around the circle held out their hands for just even the smallest touch. Gracefully he got of the seat and started to entertain the masses.

"_A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a boy's best friend."_

He danced and sang in a way I didn't know was possible until this very night. Men each waved their notes for a chance he may gaze in their direction. It is true what they say in this world, money talks. Each of their eyes bulged in desire at him, one man even held out a diamond necklace.

Finchers managed during all this commotion to find his way to the duke. The Duke was young with soft curly hair. He face was easily pleasing to many people. His looks came easily for him, yet the Duke knew this and was picky on who he gave his affection to. When he gave his affection to one, he expected them to be returned. He was an impatient man.

"When will I meet this boy?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the performer.

"After his number. I have arranged a special meeting just you and Andrew." Fincher explained. "Totally alone."

For me Toulouse was saying a similar thing to me. _Alone._ I couldn't quite believe it. The thought of being totally alone with him made me nervous. I've never been in such close proximity to one of that beauty. I started to begin to sweat and my collar became too tight. Most people find me strange with my passion of love, beauty and truth. Most people thought these things were merely fairytales. Adults telling me to grow up, people my age giving me a wide birth. Back home I was judge was a freak.

Soon enough David Fincher was back on the stage with his star. As the number went on the shorter I could wait. I rose from seat and my friends grabbed a hold of me telling me not to go.

"Is the Duke here?" Andrew asked.

"Liebchen, would Daddy let you down?" Fincher replied lightly.

"Where is he?" he asked while continuing with the routine.

"The one Toulouse is shaking a hanky at."

At this moment when he looked Toulouse was just borrowing a hanky from me. His eyes excited eyes caught mine, and my heart stopped. His large brown expressionate eyes caught mine. His eyes squinted as if doubtful at my presence.

"Are you sure?" he asked Fincher.

"Let me peek," he replied.

Fincher's eyes reconnected to the sight of the Duke flailing his hands at Toulouse. "That's the one chickpea." he said reassuringly. "I hope that demonic little loon doesn't frighten him off."

At this point I was almost certain Toulouse was getting himself into trouble, yet that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Andrew saw me. On the stage a large cloth, which resembled a curtain, was pulled up around Andrew and Fincher.

"Will he invest?" Andrew asked.

"Pigeon! After spending the night with you, how could he refuse?" Fincher said reassuringly.

"What's his type? Wilting flower? Bright and bubbly? Or smouldering temptress?" he enquired while changing into his next costume.

"I'd say smouldering temptress. We're all relying on you, gosling."

Outside the blanket the performance went on, each Diamond Dog trying to keep the men's attention for as long as they could.

"Remember, a real show in a real theatre, with a real audience," Fincher reminded Andrew of his dream to keep him in this deal. "And you'll be…"

"A real actor." Andrew finished his voice coming out no more than a whisper, as if his mind was already at the stage to where he would be performing in the future.

In rush the blanket was pulled away and arose Andrew singing out the next words ready, with Fincher faking surprise. His outfit much more impressive than the last, it was more fitting showing of his lean body. The shoulders of who he was sitting span him around, leading him ever closer to me. Then in a cloud of smoke he was there, singing softly the word friend. My eyes widened at the sight of his large eyes, soft looking hair swept up into a quiff, while his sequin studded outfit catching every light in the room making him sparkle true beauty.

"I believe you were expecting me." he assumed.

"Yes." I said hoarsely, barely able to form the words.

"I'm afraid it's boy's choice," he spoke loudly now addressing the crowd, before turning around and pointing a glove covered hand in my direction. My mouth widened in disbelieve that he would choose me. The people I was with cheered, clapped my shoulder and encouraged me to step forward.

Due to my little response Andrew pouted those impossibly plump lips, causing the crowd in to awe in sympathy. To this he turned back and pouted again, the pouting is too much for me really to bear. Next he started to yap, swinging his hips suggestively while backing up towards me.

"I've see you've met our American friend." Toulouse added.

"I'll take care out it." Andrew whispered softly. He turned his attention back to me and held out a hand. "Let's dance."

He pulled my out onto the dance floor, an easy going smile pulling up the edge of his lips. Out on the dance floor, he went for it. He showed how easily his hips could move, getting completely absorbed the beat. Where as I just stood embarrassedly on the floor, not moving. I've never been that good of a dancer. Seeming to sense my discomfort he came back, practically pushing me when it came to the twirls. Then he danced suggestively near my body I couldn't suppress the small whimpers that slipped out.

"It's so wonderful of you to take an interest in our little show," Andrew said politely.

"It sounds very exciting; I'd be delighted to be involved." I replied while trying to keep up with the movement.

"Really?" he said genuinely surprised.

"Assuming you like what I do."

"I'm sure I will."

As the dancing continued the more I let my anxieties go. "Toulouse thought we might be able to…" I began pausing to dip him "in private."

"Did he?" he asked.

"Yes, you know, a private…" I dipped him again, "poetry reading."

"Oh," he said now everything was becoming clear. "Oh a poetry reading. I love a little 'poetry' after supper."

The dancing continued long into the night and finished in a flurry of top hats dancing in the air. Then the swing he was once on reappeared and he began to climb higher and higher. His voice singing just as sweetly as before. Then suddenly he gasped, his fluttering close, and his face showing just hints of the pain he is in. My breathing stopped and I looked on worryingly. His breathing came out in short little puffs, Fincher yelled as Andrew fell from this great height. Every muscle in my body stiffened.

One of the dancers managed to catch him and ushered through the crowd to backstage. This did nothing to my nerves as I waited anxiously to see Andrew again.


End file.
